Much Too Full Of Sand
by Jathanielxx
Summary: Hatter comes to terms with his own addiction. HxA


**Summary: **Alice didn't understand why they needed them. But some arguments just can't be won.

**Note: **I'd set this piece in the fortress, after they've found Charlie on the beach, but it will jump around a bit. Rated M for select safety. Also, I might mess around with the plotline – but _only _because I haven't seen this enough to have it memorized, and I have no access to Internet.

**Disclaimer: **This belongs to Syfy. I just filled in the blanks.

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><p><strong>Much Too Full Of Sand<strong>

**1.**

Wet. It was a feeling that Alice had come to associate with Wonderland. Along with fearful, short-of-breath, dizzy, and other not so happy feelings. But mostly wet.

Charlie was off doing his pre-night rounds, checking the security perimeters of his fortress, leaving only Hatter and herself in the main camp. Hatter had built her a fire, and she was huddled around it, desperately regretting the raspberry tights she had put on. That's what she got for trying to look _cute. _

Hatter was leaning against a chess piece, looking bored. Alice sensed that he wasn't over their little tiff on the beach shore; she was sorry for it, but she wouldn't be the first to apologize. She watched as he plucked a stray flower, twirling it between his fingers. It was pink.

"Pink nectar," she said aloud.

Hatter turned his head. "What?"

"Pink nectar."

"Yes, what about it?"

"It doesn't make any sense."

Hatter gave one of his funny little sighs, tossing his flower away. Alice motioned for him to come sit closer to her. She gave him a minute while he ambled over before she continued.

"Hatter," she asked. "Why do you kidnap us?"

"I've already explained it all to you – you're brought for your emotions, your feelings."

Alice nodded. "I know, but that's exactly what doesn't make sense. You _don't need _us."

A lift of the eyebrow. The twinkling of a dark eye. Alice bit her lip in contemplation, mulling it over in her head. No matter how Hatter looked at her – though she would have to smack him if he kept ogling her like she was mad – she was certain she was right.

"Hatter, the people of Wonderland are the most emotionally charged people I've ever had the misfortune to meet."

He nodded. "You've hit your head somewhere along the line and didn't tell me, eh?"

"Stop it, Hatter."

"Alice – " Hatter took her hand, which made her breath catch in a way she didn't want to understand. "Alice, I run – ran – a teashop. I know better than anyone how emotionally false this community is."

"No, I don't believe – "

"Yes, Alice. Bliss, hope, joy, interest, surprise, serenity, desire, humor, exhilaration, lust, passion, empathy – we don't remember what those feel like anymore."

The sentence passed in one big breath, and Alice sighed at the end of it. Hatter let go of her hand, standing.

"We're wasted people, Alice." Hatter said dully, feeding some fuel to the fire. "We need every drop of tea we can get from you Oysters, and the Queen knows it. That's why she's been in power so long."

Alice raised her eyes to her the man, "I've never seen you drink any of the tea."

Hatter stiffened.

"Maybe the rest of Wonderland has gone off the deep end, maybe _they've _turned into junkies," Alice stood, grabbing Hatter's arm and spinning him to face her. They stood dangerously close. "But not you. Not _you, _Hatter."

His voice was soft. "You don't know anything about me, Alice."

"You feel. I know you feel. You wouldn't be here if you didn't," she replied. "You'd be off sipping tea with the rest of Wonderland."

"Do you know what you are?" Hatter replied. "You're an oyster with no pearl. Just sand. So much sand."

Off in the distance, the rattle of rusty armor alerted the pair to Charlie's return. Hatter took a step back, distancing himself from Alice. She sighed.

"Everything in tip-top condition!" the old knight grunted as he slid off his mount.

As usual, Charlie had failed to pick up any of the tension between his guests. Hatter gave a curt bow to Alice before spinning on his heel and walking off towards the forest.

"Hatter? Where are you going?" Alice asked.

"Nowhere. Going nowhere. Just fancy a bit of a walk."

**2.**

He was gone before Alice could say any more, tripping over brambles in his attempt to put as much space between himself and the woman. Three trips around the trunk of a giant tree put him on a path to a beach, half lit by the moon, half lit by the sun. When he turned back, the path was gone. But no matter. Like the rest of Wonderland, all he had to do was walk in a completely different direction – he could walk straight into the ocean, if it tickled his fancy – and still come out back at Charlie's fortress.

Hatter wondered if anyone knew Wonderland as well as he did. He thought it unlikely. Certainly Alice would never understand it.

Hatter walked along the beach, running his fingers lightly over the brim of his hat. The beach was accessible to anyone in Wonderland; it wasn't hidden, secret, or anything like that. In fact, a point-blank question to just about anyone would have revealed explicit directions on how to get there.

It didn't have a name, but Hatter called it Briny Beach.

A pig waddled cautiously by, its curiosity peaked.

It was a dumping ground, really. A place where all of the old things associated with Wonderland came to die: the enormous shell of a would-be turtle, splintered croquet mallets; a broken teapot that he passed by without comment. It used to be his.

On the sunny side of the beach, Hatter removed an odd shaped rock from the ground and began to dig, unearthing several bottles of tea. There were seventeen bottles in all – Hatter counted every time, just to be sure – nestled securely in the sand, glittering up at him with expectancy. He swallowed, hard, and ran his fingers over the bottles; they seemed to quiver.

He settled on a bottle half full of an electric blue liquid.

Hatter had already told Alice why he was called 'Hatter.' What he hadn't told her was why he was called _Mad Hatter_.

**3.**

Charlie liked, on some nights, to sleep on the rook. It was relatively high, with a flat top, and while he sat on it he could see the entirety of his kingdom with ease. It was fifteen minutes away from the main camp.

"That sounds fine, Charlie," Alice said. "I'll just stay in the shelter. And remember that Hatter should be coming back, so don't raise the alarm if you see him walking through the brush."

Charlie bowed respectfully – "Oh Charlie, don't." – and puttered off into the woods, disappearing in an instant.

Alice built up the fire with logs and splintered bits of ruined chess pieces. She wondered about what it meant to be an Alice.

"The last time I was here, I brought down the whole house of cards…" she echoed Hatter's words, and touched her lips.

"The last time I – she – um," Alice kicked at the fire. "The _last time_, all Alice had to do was wake up. She was dreaming. _I'm _not dreaming."

It was late. Alice kicked off her shoes and pulled of her tights, laying them out next to the fire to dry. Her dress was next, and then her undergarments. Her naked body shone briefly like alabaster in the firelight. Then she pulled on an oversized shirt of Charlie's, and went into the shelter to sleep.

**4.**

Hatter was mad. Not mad as in angry, but mad as in _stark, raving_. The bottle of blue liquid was gone, buried safely back under the sand again. He was always careful to hide them before he took his dose.

His pupils were dilated; he cursed as he half stumbled, half crawled to the darker side of the island. A whisper of bliss took him, leaving him sprawled out on the sand, beaming like an idiot. Just as quickly as it came it left, leaving exhilaration in its place. He laughed.

Curiosity tickled the side of his ear and he turned, only to be confronted with hope.

_No_, he thought to himself. _Dangerous territory there. _

But then desire brushed a smooth hand along his cheek, and lust kissed him hard on the lips, and before he knew it he was running beneath the waves, seeking the path back to Charlie's.

**5.**

There it was again – that feeling of _wet_. Alice rubbed impatiently at her cheek, opening an eye. Hatter stood next to her, hovering over her. He was dripping wet. His fists were clenched, and he was trembling.

"Hatter?" she pulled the covers up around her. "What's wrong? What happened? What did you do?"

"Everything," he whispered. "I did everything."

Alice started to respond, but Hatter cut her off.

"_Why_ is a _raven_ like a writing desk?" he spat, pulling the covers away from her.

"Hatter, you're scaring me."

Hatter took her wrist in his hand, squeezing it just enough so that she couldn't escape. He bit his lower lip as he regarded her apparel; the white shirt curved against her breasts, caught just the widest bit of her hips. Her slim stomach was completely engulfed in the fabric. Hatter tugged, pulling Alice flush against his dripping frame.

"Hatter!"

Alice shrieked as he leaned forward and bit her neck, flicking his tongue over her skin. His hands were in her hair; pulling and making her arch her back. Her shirt was getting wet. Hatter shifted against her, and she could feel something warm and hard pressing against her. She blushed.

"A little blue bottle," Hatter said. He put his head in the crook of her neck, breathing heavily.

"W-what?" Alice fumbled for the bedpost. Her knees were going weak.

"A little blue bottle," Hatter repeated, his hands on her hips. "A mixture of every tea on the market. And then some."

"Hatter, I don't – "

"There's a little bit of everything in there," he panted, "but I haven't needed lust for – for days."

He couldn't tell if the blush that covered Alice's cheeks was happiness or shame or embarrassment; and, oddly enough, neither could Alice.

There was a vase of flowers on the table next to the bed that Charlie had put there for her. Alice snaked her hand towards it, keeping one eye on Hatter, who had slipped to his knees in front of her.

"_Alice_." He kissed the inside of her thigh, making her tremble. Her hand faltered; she gripped the edge of the table with a small cry.

"_Alice, Alice_," he continued, slowly pushing up her shirt.

"Hatter, _Hatter don't – _"

"I don't want to hurt you," he moaned. "But _God_, I want – "

Alice grabbed the vase and swung.

**6.**

In the morning, Alice sat next to Hatter during breakfast. Her hands trembled, and Hatter wouldn't look at her. Charlie spoke to both of them with perfect ease, which helped, but not much. When he left, Alice turned to Hatter.

"Take me to your stash."

**7.**

The trip along the Briny Beach seemed longer, somehow, with Alice beside him. His steps seemed slower, heavier, as if the shame of what he'd done would drag him into the sand before he had time to make amends.

Alice didn't mention it; just walked as carefully as she could along the crowded path. Halfway up the beach she gave a little cry, and bent down to dig something out of the sand. When she held it up, Hatter could see that it was a little silver tray.

"I've seen this before," Alice ran her finger across it, revealing a shining silver. "But I can't remember where."

"It's a tray," Hatter ventured, softly. "A tray for desserts…like for tarts."

Alice started, stared, and dropped the tray back in the sand.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Hatter?"

"Yes?"

"I'm not mad at you."

Hatter turned his head, fingers jumping up to fiddle with the brim of his hat.

"I know I should be. I should be furious. I should have kicked you and broken your neck."

"Thanks," Hatter said glumly.

It was his turn to jump when Alice reached out and took his hand, pulling it away from his hat.

"But I'm not," she said softly. "This isn't my world. I don't understand the rules here. And I don't want to. All I want is to get Jack and go home. And you've kept me alive all this way. And I think I can forgive anything you do, because of that."

Hatter pulled his hand away and slipped to the ground.

"Here it is," he dug quickly, revealing the stash. "But I'm not sure how you plan on getting rid of it."

"I'm going to drink it."

"_What_?"

"It's not going to affect me; I have the rawest, purest form of the emotions in me already. Unlike you, it's nothing I can't handle."

Alice leaned forward and plucked the blue bottle from Hatter's hands. He stood, mouth agape, as she uncorked it, and put it to her nose to smell. She smiled, and raised the bottle.

"To you, Hatter."

Then, she chugged.

**8. **

When the adventure was over, Alice and the other Oysters drank as much of the tea as they could. It tasted sweet to them, and helped to replenish the emotions that had been drained. The Wonderlanders looked on in shock as entire cases were drunk like it was water. The Oysters laughed.

And later, when Alice returned home from the hospital and Hatter found her there, they continued what they'd started earlier.

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><p><strong>Author's Notes: <strong>I'm not going to lie; I am pleased with how it came out. That being said, I do expect to fix it. I love the length! I hope that I was consistent to character, but this is a remake of Alice In Wonderland – character only goes so far; that's part of the insanity.

Comments and feedback are much, much appreciated.

**ALSO – **Since I'm having a bit of writer's block, I am OPEN FOR COMISSION. Totally free of charge, obviously. But if you have an idea or a scenario or even a little snippet of conversation that you want me to base a one-shot on, go ahead and message me! The best thing in the world, for me, is talking to people who appreciate what I do. I once sent a writer I adored a box of Japanese candy. Who knows, it could be you next.

Message or e-mail me at tech . happens yahoo . com (Take out all the spaces, and please note that I only have Internet occassionally, so the majority of requests will be done come August or September.)

xoxo, Jathaniel.


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